


Superdads and Superboys

by AidanChase



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: 2 daddys, AU, Family Drama, Gen, test tube baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superboy has two parents: Superman and Lex Luthor, with two very different parenting styles. His childhood wasn't a normal one, to say the least. He reflects on his earliest memory with his parents.</p><p>Sort of like, what if instead of being grown in a test tube in 16 weeks, Superboy was actually raised by both of his genetic donors. He doesn't turn out much different, to be honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superdads and Superboys

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after Agendas aired, a long time ago. But in the wake of YJ coming on Netflix, my Superboy feelings were reawakened so I felt the need to post this fic here.

They say your memory doesn’t kick in until you’re four, and then you can start remembering things. I guess that was true for me, too. I don’t have any of those weird instances of remembering events when I was two. I guess I just remember being alone a lot.

I had two fathers. Whether that’s weird for you or not, it was normal for me. But I’m not sure they loved each other very much. They argued a lot. But so did the parents of the girl upstairs, so maybe it was okay.

I remember preschool first. You might think being half-Kryptonian would make preschool hard, but when there’s an Atlantean and a Martian in the room, it’s not so bad. And the nanny was a robot, so he actually put up with my temper fits well.

The first thing I can remember is that one kid, who refused to take his cape off, throwing a stuffed monkey at me. When I tried to get him, he jumped up on the ceiling and hung there, from a rope, swinging and making monkey calls, making fun of me because I couldn’t fly up there and get him.

Lex and Mercy picked me up from school that day. I told Lex about it, and he gave me this little red sticker, shaped like the Superman symbol.

I said, “Why do I get a sticker? Can I put it on my shirt? Like a star?”

Lex smiled gently at me and chuckled. “No, son. Put it on your shoulder, but not right now. Next time that naughty little boy teases you, put it on and you’ll be able to get back at him.”

I held the sticker out in front of me in wonder. With this, I would be able to fly? I would be able to be like Superman? I couldn’t wait, but I didn’t want to try it with Lex right next to me, even if he was busy doing corporation things.

When we got home, I went straight up to my room and put the patch on my shoulder. I felt fierce, strong, like I could do anything. And I felt angry. I yelled, threw my bed over, flew up and hit my head on the ceiling. It cracked, and I heard the family of the girl upstairs scream. My eyes burned hot and I shot lasers at the mirror. They came back and hit me in the eye. I started crying.

Superman flew through my window immediately. He always picked up on my crying with his supersonic hearing, and came running no matter where he was. He scooped me up in his arms and wrapped me in his cape, then went into the kitchen, where Lex was reviewing more company reports.

"Lex, what did you do?" His loud voice echoed off of the walls in a way only he and I could hear.

"I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Superman set me down in the high chair. “He was up there crying. Why? What did you do.”

"How like you. Always assuming I’m at fault. Did you think to ask him what was wrong? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Superboy, what happened?"

I tried to stop sniffling but I couldn’t. My eyes burned, and I still felt so angry. I screamed and smashed the table of my high chair with my fists. I was a fitful child. Then I was a fitful teenager. Now I’m, well, let’s be honest. I’m a fitful adult.

Superman’s quick X-ray scan then heat scan of my body was quick to pick up the burning in my eyes and then the patch on my shoulder. He ripped it off. It hurt, like a band-aid being stripped from a cut. I cried harder and jumped from the high chair. The floor dented when I hit it and I kept crying.

"Did you give him this?! What is it?!"

Lex sighed and set down the reports. “If you took any interest in your son’s life, you would know that he had a rough day at school. I gave him that to cheer him up. You know he always looks up to you. It just enhanced his powers a bit, made him more like his favorite father. Though God knows why. You never wanted him.”

Superman threw the sticker on the table. “He’s a child! You can’t just go and give him laser vision. You see what he did to himself? He could have been hurt worse, or hurt others! That was irresponsible of you, Lex. You tell me I don’t care, but you never take care of him. You just want to use him for your own agendas.”

"Don’t be ridiculous, Superman. He’s my son as much as he is yours and at least I own that. Tell me the last time you took him for a flight, or trained him in using his powers, while I’m working with him every weekend—"

"Testing him at your lab, finding ways to control him—It’s because of you I don’t trust him!"

"And there we have it. The admission of guilt. You don’t trust or love your own son. Maybe now you should just leave. I’m sure there’s a planet that needs saving. Never mind your own son’s tears."

Superman left after that. Mercy carried me crying up to my room. I stayed there until she brought me dinner then Lex came to tuck me in. He asked me if I wanted another sticker.

"Is it okay?" I sniffled, because I got scared of Superman being angry again.

"Of course it’s okay. You just need to practice. No shooting lasers at mirrors, only at little birdies who throw monkeys, alright?"

I nodded, and looked at wonder with the stack of stickers that Lex handed me. I thought about giving one to the green girl with the pretty hair. She liked stickers and she didn’t have a Superman one yet. We could each put them on our cubbies, then we would match. She’d like that.

I took the stack of stickers.

"Now, what do you say?"

I looked up, confused. I was too busy thinking about the green girl with the pretty hair.

"Manners, Superboy."

"Thank you, Lex." I answered readily and meekly. I knew that tone. It was the, "I’m losing power over this situation and about to actually express my anger," tone. I can describe it now, but when I was a kid, it just terrified me.

That first memory is really how my whole life went. Superman would be there when I was in danger, or when I was putting someone in danger, and then he would fight with Lex and be gone. Lex was there, but he always scared me. I didn’t like going to his lab and meeting his scientists, and I didn’t really like the way he gave me things without ever looking at what they did to me, like the stickers.

It wasn’t until I met Black Canary as a teenager that I learned adults could be trustworthy and actually care about you. She was my mother, and a better father than either dads I grew up with.


End file.
